Bygones
by StormyNight55
Summary: Ash Ketchum's neighbor Gary Oak is talented, smart, and wildly good-looking. Five years prior they were best friends. Now he is Ash's least favorite person - and also his tutor. (Palletshipping)
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon. Nor do I own the source of the quote below. Nor do I own a Mercedes Benz.**

* * *

_"Forgiveness is not about forgetting. It is about letting go of another person's throat."_

_- Paul Young, The Shack: Where Tragedy Confronts Eternity_

* * *

Ash Ketchum could list each and every class he had ever been forced to take with Gary Oak. He could also name to the precise date when they had stopped speaking for good, despite how awful Ash Ketchum was with dates and times. It had been five years prior, at the start of 7th grade. He had gone home with a fat lip and his mother had cried.

He had cried too, but not until she wasn't looking. No self-respecting thirteen year old cried to their mom.

They were eighteen now and still neighbors in the same small town. They still attended the same school and played the same sport, even though Gary had gotten so good that he played for the city and Ash still played for their high school. Sometimes he and Gary would leave for school at the same time and Gary would walk faster to keep a wide berth between them. Ash had stopped trying to catch up years ago. He hardly ever had to endure trailing after him on the way to school anyway, seeing as Ash was hardly ever on time and Gary usually got a ride from his grandfather. The only time that he did not ride with the professor was during baseball season.

Naturally, it was baseball season. By some miracle Ash had left the house on time. It was also raining.

Hard.

Gary was at his typical, thirty-foot distance ahead that morning. He had an umbrella, and Ash did not. Ash fantasized, as his clothing soaked through to the skin, about running ahead and asking him to share it. He was already sporting one black eye, though.

He didn't really mind the rain all that much. Ash loved the outdoors and almost everything that came along with them. What he minded was being expected to sit in school for eight periods with damp clothes. It was already hard enough for him to pay attention. His bag was soaking through too, which likely meant he would have to hang his uniform in the locker room before first period, or it wouldn't be dry for practice after school.

Which meant he would be late to first period, again.

He tried to ignore the gravel grinding wetly under his shoes and the droplets of rain dripping from the brim of his hat in front of his eyes. By the time he trudged into first period, he was twenty minutes late.

"Mr. Ketchum," the teacher droned as he passed by her. She reached into her desk and pulled out a blue slip. "That's the fourth time this week. You'll be here bright and early tomorrow morning."

He plopped into his seat with a miserable squelch from his drenched jeans. Misty spared him a glance from the seat to his right.

"Rough morning?"

He sighed.

"Hat, Ketchum," the teacher called out again. He pulled it from his head by the brim and sat it on the desk in front of him, where a small puddle began to collect.

"If I can't make it here by eight in the morning," he whispered back to the redhead, "how does she expect me to be here at six?"

The day progressed as usual. Ash hated school, but that was mostly because he hated being expected to sit still when he didn't want to learn most of the subjects he was required to take, and he hated that the one class he _did_ enjoy he had with Gary fucking Oak. Eighth period, swim class. At least he had it with Misty as well, and his friend understood more than anyone his feud with Gary – well, no, nobody quite_ understood_ the feud, but she understood why he didn't like him, and that was enough. Most people loved Gary, and to know someone who saw him as an arrogant ass instead of a bright young prodigy was refreshing.

It felt incredible to strip out of his damp-dried clothing for his final period of the day. It felt less incredible that Gary was likewise stripping three locker rows over, and puberty had gifted his neighbor with a body that was damn near perfect. Ash had strategically chosen a locker as far as he could manage for a reason, and that reason was that school was hard enough without pitching a tent over your ex-best friend's muscles. He was grateful that the pool was always kept at sub-arctic temperatures, and slightly suspicious that there was some purposeful intent behind that.

Ash had mastered awkward locker room situations by this point. The only classes he ever had with Gary anymore were physical, since he was in remedial everything and Gary was always in accelerated. Gary was probably the top of their class. He_ had_ gotten a perfect score on their college placement exams the year before.

For going on five years of largely not speaking, Ash had an embarrassing wealth of knowledge regarding Gary Oak.

He stuck with Misty most of the period, as they often did. He didn't really understand how Misty never grew tired of all the time she spent in pools – with class, being captain of the swim team, and life-guarding as a part-time job – but he supposed that he had baseball, and he couldn't see himself ever getting tired of that either. After class the teacher had them gather on the bleachers for an announcement.

"I've got sign-up sheets for scholarships here. Make sure to pick one up before you go – I know most of you here are seniors. Scholarships might seem like a joke to you now –"

He tuned out the following speech on the importance of funding college. Ash already knew the value of money, mostly through never having any. He knew all too well how badly he needed a scholarship, preferably many.

When the bell rang everyone immediately flocked to the pile of papers stacked on the desk of the teacher's office, a room connected to the central pool. Ash waited until the crowd died down and Misty departed for life-guarding. He hadn't seen Gary take one – the brunette had vanished into the locker rooms immediately. Finally, the only student left, Ash stepped up to snag the last sheet from the desk.

_'Athletic Scholarships Available!'_

The title filled him with renewed hope. His grades were crap, but baseball was his life. Surely he could work hard enough to secure some kind of meager funding.

"Is that the last one?"

The voice startled him and he jolted, smile slipping from his face. Gary Oak was in the doorway to the office, freshly showered and clothed. His backpack was slung loosely over one shoulder. Ash felt that stupid tightness in his chest that he always did whenever he had to look at Gary, which he could only ever alleviate by shouting at him.

"Yeah," he swallowed. Water dripped down the sides of the brunette's face from his damp hair, outlining his jaw. "Here, you can take it."

He held it out. Why was he offering the sheet to Gary – rich, popular Gary who needed scholarships so much less than he did? He didn't know. He didn't know why that if it had been him with the umbrella that morning, he would have offered it to the same person who had given him his first fat lip.

"Thanks," he took it with his free hand, the other gripping the handle of an umbrella loosely. Ash felt a sense of confusion at being thanked by Gary for anything. There was a tense silence. Gary was still blocking the doorway. "So what happened to your eye?"

"Oh," Ash blinked. "A guy was picking on Forrest – one of the new freshmen on the team. Brock Harrison's little brother."

Gary nodded. "I know who he is."

Of course. Gary knew everybody. But Ash talked when he was nervous.

"Oh."

More tension. Ash's chest felt coiled into a tight knot. Gary blinked and half-smiled suddenly, looking away, all lashes and perfect teeth.

"Yeah, well, we can all see who lost that one, huh?" He mocked. Ash clenched his fists. The near-gentle look that the brunette had been sporting before had evaporated.

"You should see the other guy," Ash hurried to defend himself.

"I _have_ seen the other guy," Gary boasted. "From Viridian High's team? He looked fine to me."

Ash gritted his teeth.

"Bet _you_ couldn't beat me."

He knew he shouldn't have said it as soon as he did, but he was never going to take it back. He would sport a second black eye if he had to, but he wasn't going to admit aloud that Gary could definitely take him in a fight and sort of had before. The brunette threw his head back and laughed.

"You can't beat me at anything, Ashy-boy," his stupid heart fluttered at the old nickname, and Ash's hands balled into fists. "It's still raining out, so here."

He tossed the umbrella in his hand unexpectedly. Ash barely caught it, stunned by the offering.

"What about you?"

"Hitching a ride to practice with Gramps," he shrugged and turned to leave. The rain would cancel Ash's baseball practice for the day, but the city team could afford indoor accommodations. "Smell ya later, loser."

At least his walk home was dry. Unfortunately his new accessory roused the curiosity of his mother.

"Gary? Neighbor Gary? _Our_ Gary?"

"He's not really_ our_ Gary if he hasn't been to our house since sixth grade, Mom –"

"Did you two make up?" She sounded sickeningly hopeful, and Ash groaned. "Oh, honey, it's about time –"

"No, Mom –"

He retreated to his room and glared angrily at the umbrella before throwing it to the floor.

_Stupid Gary._

He had known that he was going to have a bad day the minute it had started with the two of them leaving for school at the same time. It was bad enough that Ash had to see Gary every day in swim class, or laughing in the hallways, or occasionally and awkwardly in the bathrooms.

Pallet Town had always been small, and avoiding Gary had always been near impossible - which sucked, because Ash never wanted to see him again. What sucked more was that Ash wanted to see him every single day so that he could keep telling himself how much he didn't want to ever see him again.

He sat on the bed and continued to shoot daggers at the umbrella. Gary had actually looked _kind_ earlier, for a second. For someone so arrogant and cocky, he had a sort of gentle resting face. That was how he had looked when Ash had first caught sight of him in the doorway. He could only describe Gary's minute details like that because he spent so much time looking at him and so much time talking about how he never wanted to look at him again. It was pathetic how much he missed Gary, it was sick and pathetic and gross. He wanted to yell, cry, kick down his door and demand to know what the hell they were _even fighting about anyway –_

He didn't, though, and he wouldn't. Instead he sat on the bed and rolled a baseball in his hand, wishing there had been practice that day.

* * *

He blundered into six A.M. detention at six fifteen.

"Sorry I'm late –" he charged through the door, still in last night's sweats. "Professor Oak?"

He had expected to find his first period teacher waiting for him, but seated at the desk was the school's science department head. He taught Ash's third period, biology – his worst subject by far, but he had known the professor for a long time and didn't feel embarrassed asking questions or being wrong in front of him. Which was good, because he did both frequently.

"Good morning, Ash," the old man smiled warmly. He felt at ease immediately, dropping his pack beside the desk and taking the seat across from the man. "Don't worry about the time. We've been having such unpleasant weather recently."

Professor Oak knew that he walked to school. He knew everything. Before he had been his biology teacher, he had been his neighbor. He had been his best friend's grandfather, and the only grown man who paid Ash any attention.

"Yeah," it was raining, still. "I had an umbrella, though."

He set the accessory on the desk, to the side. The old man eyed it briefly.

"Ah," he commented without inflection. "That looks familiar."

"Yeah…" Ash took a less comfortably tone. "Gary loaned it, or something, I don't know. To me. Yesterday. Could you give it back to him for me?"

He sounded nervous. Surely the professor could tell, but mercifully, he ignored it.

"Actually, that brings me to what I wanted to ask you," he looked squarely at him, with the gentle sternness of a grandparent. "You are not doing as well as you could be in my class, Ash."

Ash looked down. The man had the ability to guilt-trip him with one look. He had too much experience with that, blurting out he and Gary's guilt far too many times throughout their childhood at the briefest eye contact with the man.

"I know," he mumbled. In a burst of guilty nerves he barreled on. "I'm sorry, I try, it's just – it's hard, really hard, and I hate biology, I'm sorry sir –"

He held up his palm. Ash halted lamely.

"You won't graduate on time without these credits, Ash," he warned him. "And from what I hear, there are other reasons that you should feel invested in passing my next exam."

"I know, I'm sorry –"

The professor cleared his throat pointedly. Ash fell silent again.

"I'm going to arrange for you to receive tutoring," he began again. "I've already consulted my best student from the accelerated class."

"I can't…" Ash hesitated. "I can't afford tutoring, Professor."

"I know that," there was not an ounce of pity or judgment in his tone. "You won't be paying Gary a thing."

"Gary?" Ash balked. "Professor, I – I'm grateful, I really am, but – I can't – _Gary?"_

"I think that this should truly be a matter of how important graduating on time is to you, Ash," the man was unwavering, "something above whatever hard feelings you two might have. But additionally, I spoke with your coach."

"What?" Ash blinked, at full attention now. "Wait, what did he say?"

"You won't be finishing the season, Ash, if your grades do not improve. You need to perform well on my next exam or he will remove you from the team."

"What?" Ash sounded like he had been punched in the gut. "Professor, no, I – please, don't let him do that. I_ have_ to play."

The wrinkles in his forehead deepened with genuine sympathy.

"There's nothing I can do but give you the tools, Ash," he explained. "You will have to put in the time and effort yourself. I'm confident that you can do better than this – tutoring should help, if you apply yourself."

"Why does it have to be Gary?" He tried to keep from whining. "Can't it be someone else?"

"You'll have to pay someone else," Oak offered, and Ash knew there was no chance of that.

"But I - I don't want to owe Gary, Professor," he pleaded. "No offense. Please."

"You won't owe him," the man continued. "My grandson needs his license – despite his own opinion on the matter – and he simply refuses to consider taking public classes. You work as a delivery driver for The Mart, don't you?"

Ash's mouth dried up when he realized where the professor was headed.

"Yeah, but –"

"That is my arrangement, then," the old man smiled. "My grandson will tutor you and you will prepare him for this road test that he so dreads. How does that sound?"

Ash didn't know what to say, because he wanted to be honest and express how very awful that sounded, but he wanted Professor Oak to know that he was grateful that he was going out of his way to help him. But that involved seeing Gary Oak, a lot. Speaking to him, a lot. Probably sitting within a two-foot radius of him…a lot. All things that he wasn't sure either of them were capable of, and he wasn't eager to try them out.

As previously mentioned, he already had one black eye. He would fight Gary if he had to, but he would also definitely lose. Still, he didn't care. He would do it.

"I'm going to assume you accept my proposal," the old man was still smiling, and it made Ash feel guilty to know that, without a doubt, he was only extending the offer because he wanted what was best for Ash. "Now, for the rest of your detention…well, I'm going to allow you some freedom here, Ash. I believe your practice yesterday afternoon was cancelled due to the rain?"

"Yeah?" Ash perked up.

"We'll head to the city's indoor accommodations, then," he rose from his chair. "I won't make you write lines – certainly I've tortured you enough this morning, hm?"

Ash burst into a wide grin. "Thank you, Professor!"

* * *

Ash really wished their houses were farther apart, because when he stepped outside with his backpack slung over his shoulder, Gary was already a mere stone's throw away on his own porch. He wanted to walk to be longer, so he could have time to contemplate how terrible getting tutored by Gary Oak was going to be, but he didn't have that privilege. Gary didn't glance at him as he approached, leaning back against the bricks and tossing a baseball into the air lazily.

He remembered when their houses had been farther apart. Growing up, Gary had lived on the other side of town, though they made the trek to see each other nearly daily, and he often spent time at his grandfather's. It was not until after the death of his parents that Gary became his next door neighbor. For something they had jokingly fantasized about as kids – how great would it be, if they could feasibly sneak out in the middle of the night without having to run across town? – the reality had been horribly tarnished, and Ash had found himself more than once regretting that he had ever wished for it.

He brought the umbrella, but didn't open it for the short walk to Gary's. It was still raining.

"Hey," he offered awkwardly, still standing a foot or so shy of the protection of the porch awning. Gary raised his brows and stayed silent for a moment. Ash was certain he must have been enjoying the sight, but he was not going to open the stupid umbrella right there in front of the guy who lent it to him.

"Let's just get this over with already," the brunette chose as his greeting, getting to his feet with a disgruntled sigh and heading through the front door, leaving it swung open for Ash to follow. Hesitantly, he followed after, closing it behind him.

He had not been inside Gary Oak's house in years. He had seen the outside of it a great deal, even up close thanks to his relationship with the professor, but inside had been somewhere he had never dared venture, even with the old man's permission. He knew that the older Oak owned the place, but part of him had always been afraid that if he went inside Gary would find out, and there were already enough, unknown things that the brunette would apparently never forgive him for. He had no desire to add to the list.

"Don't just stand in the doorway," he slid his shoes off and proceeded a few feet before looking back at him. Ash was trying not to speak, because he was fairly certain if he started, he wouldn't be able to stop. "Take your shoes off or something. You're gonna track water all over the house."

He didn't want to remove his shoes, since it gave the impression of being comfortable and staying for a long time, two things that he was not. But he slid them off anyway, and his jacket, because he got the feeling Gary really didn't want him tracking water anywhere. He left the umbrella by the door as well.

"Can't you take off that stupid hat?"

Irritation prickled under his skin. He frowned. "No."

Gary stared for a second, before letting it go and turning away to head up the staircase. Ash brought one hand up to the back of his neck and took a breath. Going up to Gary's room was definitely not weird, nope.

_Yeah, definitely not weird, just the weirdest thing I've ever done in my entire life. Right._

He followed anyway. He had to play baseball and he had to pass biology, and he couldn't do either of those things without Gary's help. Of course. He should have known this would happen to him eventually. All he wanted to do was play baseball, and he needed Gary's help for that. He could have screamed. Why did it have to be Gary?

Ash had hardly changed his own room in years, hell, he doubted he had altered much since the last time Gary had seen it himself. But Gary's room was a different story. Everything looked like the most expensive version that could be purchased, from the television, to the laptop, to the pencils. He had several rows of shelves perched above his headboard that were lined with trophies. There were a few more trophies on the floor, and as Ash looked around he realized that was because there was no more room for them anywhere else.

He could have puked.

"So…" Gary sat on his bed, throwing his hands back behind him. He looked terribly casual for the awkward situation that they were in, but his voice betrayed a bit of how he would rather have been anywhere else. "You don't get biology."

"No," he bit his tongue.

"Did you bring the book?"

Shit.

_Books. Right. _

"Uh," he looked at the floor. Even still he could see Gary roll his eyes.

"You didn't bring the book."

"I thought you would have it!" He burst suddenly.

"Why?" Gary sat forward. "I'm in accelerated biology, that's the whole reason I have to tutor you."

The brunette exhaled roughly, annoyed, and reached over the other side of his bed. He pulled out the biology textbook – well,_ a_ biology textbook certainly, to Ash they all looked the same, mostly because he had never cracked one open in his life – and splayed it open on the bed.

"Whatever," he grumbled, rifling through the pages. "The stuff you need is probably in here anyway, just earlier in the text…do you have any idea what chapter you're supposed to be on?"

Ash was silent. His chest felt tight.

"Right," Gary sighed. "How did I know."

"Sorry," he mumbled, unsure what he was sorry for. Maybe he was apologizing for not bringing the book, maybe not – he was never sure, all he knew was that whenever he had to interact with Gary Oak he was inexplicably sorry.

"Just bring it next time," Gary excused. "Are you gonna sit down or just stand there this whole time?"

Ash truthfully didn't know where to sit. He chose the chair at the desk, despite the ample room on the bed.

"Okay, I guess I'm just going to figure something out," Gary shrugged a little, brows knit together as he scanned the pages of the text. "I'm guessing you don't know any of this shit, so we're just gonna start at the beginning. You should make flashcards of this stuff, once we go over some of it."

"Why?"

Gary blinked. "Because I told you to?"

Ash glowered slightly and mumbled something rude under his breath.

"Look," Gary must have caught it, because he slammed the book shut abruptly and looked up. "I'm trying to help you. I don't want to, and you don't want me to, but apparently I have to anyway, so just deal with it."

Ash bit his tongue harder, his irritated expression belying the dam of retorts threatening to break.

"Just make the fucking flashcards," he finished lamely, with an exasperated exhale. He went back to scanning the book. Ash studied the ceiling of the room intently.

"Don't I have to teach you to drive or something?"

Gary's eyes snapped up.

"I know how to drive," he corrected. "I just don't."

"So what do you need me for, then –"

"I don't," he hissed. Ash fell silent. "Gramps wants me to take the stupid test and I don't want to so he thinks I must not know how to drive, or something. It's stupid."

"Why don't you want to take the test?"

"None of your business," Gary snapped, and Ash gave up trying to make conversation.

Gary eventually settled on a few topics to quiz him about. Ash proceeded to get every single question asked of him wrong.

"Okay, no offense," Gary began abruptly, and Ash wondered if he meant it, "but you don't know any of this shit. I can't study for you, that's not how tutoring works. You have to have tried at least a little bit first."

"I don't know how to study."

"What the hell?" He blinked. "We graduate at the end of this year."

Ash shrugged, somewhat embarrassed.

"How do you not know how to study?"

"How do you not know how to drive?" Ash shot back, feeling a little defensive. Gary's eyes narrowed.

"Fuck you," he glowered, "I know how to drive."

"Okay, then let's go."

"Huh?"

"Let's go driving," Ash challenged. "Right now."

"I'm supposed to be tutoring you."

"Well you just said there's no point in you trying," Ash countered bitterly, "since I don't know anything anyway. I'll bring the book in the car and read it while you drive."

"It's raining."

Ash felt puzzled for a second, and then realized what Gary must have meant. "So? You can still drive in the rain."

Gary stared at him, eyes sharp. He clearly had words to say, but somehow they all stayed inside, and he got up from the bed abruptly.

"Fine," he snapped. "Whatever. Let's go. Get the book."

He left his bag beside the desk, largely by accident, and plucked the book from the bed as Gary headed down the stairs. They took the professor's modest van, leaving the red Mercedes Benz that Ash knew belonged to Gary behind.

"Why do you own a Mercedes if you don't drive it?" Ash dared to ask as Gary put the car in drive.

"I don't have to drive it," he grumbled. Ash glanced over and noticed he looked uncharacteristically flustered. "Other people drive it for me."

Ash thought that was a pretentious thing to say, not that it surprised him, and opened the book in his lap, kicking one leg up onto the dash. Gary made a sound of discontent.

"This is Gramps' car."

"Do you want me to put my foot down?"

Gary mumbled something unintelligible, so Ash left it. He didn't know what page to turn the book to, so he flipped idly through the pages, looking at pictures distractedly until Gary jerked to a hasty stop at a red light.

"You don't have to slam your foot down to break," Ash mentioned, earning him an angry glare. He looked away.

"Are you even reading that?" Gary snapped back edgily.

"Yeah."

"You're in the section on photosynthesis and respiration and I_ know_ you're not that far yet –"

Ash didn't even know what photosynthesis meant.

"Okay, okay," Ash droned. "Then tell me where I'm supposed to start."

"Page…one hundred and fourteen, I think it is."

"How do you know?"

"I was just looking at it like ten minutes ago."

Ash started on the page. He was sure Gary was right anyway. Ash couldn't even remember how to do long division, but Gary had always been good with numbers and memory.

Ash read the same paragraph five times before he realized he hadn't been paying attention to any of it and had to read it for a sixth time. Gary drove aimlessly, the windshield wipers on full blast despite the fact that it was only drizzling. Ash ignored it because the brunette didn't look like he was in the mood to converse. It wasn't until he slammed on the breaks thirty feet ahead of a yellow light that Ash jerked up and looked at him.

"You did _not_ need to break like that."

"Fuck you," Gary hissed. He had both hands gripped on the wheel with his spine straight against the seat, and Ash blinked as images of the same Gary reclined casually in a school desk, or spinning a baseball on his finger while leaning against the bleachers. Something occurred to him that he had not considered previously.

"Are you nervous?"

There was a tense silence.

"Fuck you," he said more quietly. "Tell anybody and you're asking for another black eye."

Ash stared. He didn't want to stare because that seemed rude, but he didn't know what else to do. He didn't trust his mouth to make the right words, since Gary's knuckles were white against the steering wheel and Ash hadn't seen him display any emotion other than cockiness since the brunette had punched him in the mouth when they were thirteen. He should have felt triumphant or something, that Gary was afraid to drive and Ash did it all the time like it was nothing. That Ash was better than Gary at _something_ at least, even if it was something that nobody knew about.

He didn't, though. He felt bad. He felt sorry, even though he had nothing to do with it, and a sick sort of feeling settled in his gut at the way Gary looked at the road ahead of him like he shouldn't be trusted with it.

"I'm not going to tell anybody," and it was the truth. Gary didn't answer. "Why are you so nervous –?"

"You should know," he cut him off abruptly. "God, you're so dense."

Ash fell silent.

"Stop looking at me," Gary ordered. "Read your stupid book. Try and learn something for once."

Ash didn't ask Gary to drive on the freeway and he didn't take the initiative. They drove aimlessly, in near silence, for twenty minutes more before they pulled into the driveway of Gary's home again. Gary took a moment to exit the car, and Ash waited with him.

"You can keep the umbrella." The brunette said without looking at him, and Ash collected his things and went home.


	2. Chapter 2

Fighting, bonding, self-indulgent cute trash ahead.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon.**

* * *

They met only once more that week. His mother badgered him endlessly about their progress and Ash got the feeling that she was less invested in his grades than she was in his interaction with their neighbor. Uncomfortably, he attempted to dodge questions about mending he and Gary's long-ended friendship.

They had not yet acknowledged their shared past, as if by some unspoken code they were both abiding by. As if behaving like two people only just meeting would make it so. To Ash, the past seemed like something that needed dire speaking about, but he sure as hell wasn't going to bring it up. Not even with all of the questions building up in his head, bouncing around and pestering him.

Gary's ability to be civil did surprise Ash to a degree, though he still had to tolerate the occasional snide comment here and there. Ash found himself much more disheartened than worked up over the eye-rolls his answers would earn him during quiz sessions, or the silent stares Gary would fix him with before moving on to the next question with a sigh.

Though he was not necessarily pleasant outside a vehicle, Gary managed to be distinctly less than so behind the wheel. Ash didn't know how to help in the slightest.

"You do know how to drive," he offered, "you just have to relax."

"I know," Gary answered harshly. Ash went back to his book. That day was no different - Gary was never anything but moody in the car. Surprisingly, he continued to talk, but his tone grew increasingly agitated to the point where Ash wished that he would stop. "I can't drive in this fucking rain anymore. You've gotta be kidding me. Can't we wait until there's a nice day?"

"You can't just not drive in the rain your whole life." There had been hardly any days without drizzle in weeks.

"It wouldn't be that hard," he growled back. "I can think of a dozen people easy who would love to be my personal chauffeur."

"Great," Ash shot back, growing more annoyed at both the other boy and himself. Admittedly he did like when Gary tried to carry out conversation, but oftentimes it merely opened the door for him to be a jerk. It was bewildering in itself, that he would rather Gary be talkative and rude than silent. "Then call them and quit being such an ass about everything."

With that, the brunette took a sharp turn into the nearest parking lot and hit the breaks. For a moment Ash was confused, unsure what was going to happen next, the entire action having been unexpected. The door slammed before Ash even realized that Gary was getting out of the car, and within seconds he was yanked from his own seat and into the rain. The biology textbook fell from his lap onto the wet concrete.

"You drive home," Gary snapped. Ash grabbed onto the other's forearms, not entirely convinced that fists weren't going to fly. Initial surprise and puzzlement wearing off, he reacted in anger.

"Fuck off!" He answered, in a tone much louder than Gary had taken. He was not going to chauffeur Gary Oak around like the brunette was so convinced other people would die for the chance to do, he wasn't going to buy into his self-inflated persona like he had been forced to watch everyone else do for years. Frustration surged up in his gut, and if he were honest with himself it was mingled with bitter sadness - glaring at blue eyes, he could almost see them five years ago, as everything he had known came to a sudden end. "I'm not driving you around, get one of your stupid cheerleaders to do it, they can probably drive better than you can anyway and I don't even think they can tie their own _shoes -"_

"Fuck you, I can drive," he spit back. His voice was neither excessively loud nor forceful, but Ash could hardly interpret that, enthralled too deeply in the idea that Gary was trying to push him around purposefully, that he thought he would just bend and drive him home for the sake of satisfying him. "Just get in the damn car and take me home so we don't have to do this anymore."

"I know you can drive!" Ash shouted back, anger mingling with confusion. "Which is what I don't get about you! Get in the car already and let's go!"

Gary ripped his forearms free and Ash, in a burst of frustration, shoved him backward against the chest. He stumbled back slightly but didn't fall, increasing the distance between them, and looked more surprised at the sudden aggressive gesture more than anything else. Ash braced himself temporarily for retaliation, but when it didn't seem to be oncoming he barreled on.

"What is your problem?" Ash cried. The rain was beating down on them. "I don't care that you're nervous, it's not a big deal –"

"Don't you get it?" Gary was suddenly yelling too, and Ash gripped the back of his head, unsure what else to do with his hands other than tear at his hair if his hat hadn't been in the way.

For a few days, things had seemed civil between them. For a moment, Ash had felt like he might not have to walk on eggshells around Gary Oak, but of course, inevitably, they were fighting. It was like Gary had done it on purpose. That he had intended to seem tolerable, so that Ash would feel almost comfortable, and now he was going to prove how stupid Ash was for feeling that way.

"Why would you let Gramps put you up to this? You should – why don't you fucking get it?"

"What are you talking about?" The dam broke suddenly, and Ash couldn't shut his mouth. He didn't understand Gary anymore, and maybe he was destined not to. But he had wanted to, for so long, and he _still _wanted to, which killed him more than anything. He wanted to know why Gary acted the way he did. He wanted to understand what he had done to ruin things. He wanted to know why Gary treated him this way, like an accessory instead of the indispensable friend Ash had once thought of him as. "What is wrong with you? We used to – you used to be – you don't fucking like me, I get it! I get it, trust me, since you've spent _years_ getting that point across, and I don't know what I did to you, but I guess it must have been pretty terrible, and I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't even _be_ sorry! I don't know what I did! But whatever it is, I am, because even though you're a huge fucking ass, and you hate me, and you have no problem letting everyone know that, you did used to be my best friend, my_ best_ friend, Gary, and so just – fuck you!"

The more he went on the more he realized that it could be _him_ who threw the punches - he had never hit Gary before, not once, but he had been in countless other fights and the faint discoloration of his healing black eye was still there. He had spent all this time wondering when Gary was going to snap and lash out at him, and yet he had never heard of Gary fighting anyone else before. Gary _could_ have been in fights _and_ won them, but he hadn't been. Maybe it was the way that people tended to bow to him. Perhaps nobody had ever challenged him before to the point where a fight was inevitable.

Regardless, Ash couldn't bow to anyone. Gary ran his hands through his hair, gripping with his fingers and screwing his eyes shut before looking at him again and shouting with renewed vigor.

"You were supposed to get it!" He yelled. Ash lost it.

"Get what?" He exclaimed, throwing out his arms. He closed the distance between them in a few fast paces, he could have easily reached out and closed his fingers around Gary's collar, but he came to a tense halt and did not. The opportunity there, with Gary unflinching and within his reach, he gave a short exhale and barreled on instead of taking action. "Oh my _God,_ Gary – what the hell do you –"

"My_ parents_!" He cried, a note of desperation in his voice, and Ash stopped cold, the sound giving him chills. Gary turned around and retreated a few slow steps, back to him only for a moment. Then he turned around again to face Ash, deflating visibly and shoulders sagging, repeating it. "My parents."

Ash swallowed thickly. The edge he had felt himself teetering on, between fight or reason, suddenly looked absurd. It hurt in his chest to look at the other directly, and Ash subconsciously dismissed his swimming eyes with the weather. He was nearly unable to acknowledge what they meant, unable to fathom a deep emotional range in someone who was supposed to be perfectly put-together, flawlessly arrogant.

They stood in silence for a moment, the only sound the patter of rain. Everything clicked into Ash's mind at once – his mother walking into the living room with tears in her eyes and Ash not understanding what was so sad about Gary moving in with his grandfather. A wave of sickness when she explained what had happened. Him, thirteen years old, running down the street and seeing the cars piled up at the end of the road. Grabbing Gary's hand and then being flat on his back, blood trickling down his chin. He had not hit back, not a single time, even as the punches piled up. He had struggled and threw up his arms to cover his face and tried to shove the other boy away, but he had not struck back. It was the only time in his life that Ash had not hit back.

"_Gary –!"_

"_You don't even know who your dad _is! _What do _you _know!"_

Ash swallowed and he was there again, in the present, in the soaked and empty parking lot while Gary just stared. It was shocking how quickly they had deflated, and Ash felt almost shaky with the lack of frustrated fury.

"It's okay," he began cautiously and slowly, taking careful breaths himself, the switch from anger to reassurance too sudden for him to be sure of his words, "to be scared about it."

Gary didn't say anything, but he looked like he wanted to. Like he desperately wanted to deny it, but there was no use in lying.

"You don't have to be embarrassed or anything," he kept going. "I know you don't want anybody to find out, but you don't have to – you don't have to be like that, not with me."

"What would you know," Gary said, voice low and lacking fire.

"I know you," he answered, taking a few steps forward like Gary was a skittish animal he could spook away. "Maybe not so much anymore...but I did. You can ignore me for as long as you want, but that doesn't change it. I don't feel like I'm meeting somebody else all over again. I've known you the whole time."

He held out his hand barely, an offering, rain dripping from his fingertips. He didn't know if Gary was going to answer. The brunette had his hands balled into fists, but he didn't look angry.

Just sick.

"It's not fair," the words dropped from his mouth like stones, as heavy as the rain.

"Let me help," he added gently, "just let me try and help. You can do this, Gary."

Gary reached out unexpectedly and grabbed his hand tight. Ash felt a surge of something in his chest, something that wanted to pull the brunette in and act as a shield, but he didn't. He couldn't protect Gary from things neither of them could see or touch. Ash felt a sickness in his gut as thick as if the haunting behind Gary's eyes were his own burden to carry.

"I'll drive us home," Ash offered. Gary swallowed thick in his throat.

"I should probably try," he suggested faintly.

"Tomorrow," Ash said, and the other nodded. "You can try again tomorrow."

* * *

The following day, Gary seemed more civil than ever before. Ash wasn't sure if he were making an effort due to the previous day's outburst, or if he was not aware of his own change in behavior. Things reached a subtle peak when the brunette sat on the edge of the bed and reached over to where Ash was at the desk. Ash flinched instinctively when the hat on his head lifted and brought up his hands to snatch it back.

"Relax," Gary lowered the accessory back onto his head, pushing bangs into his eyes. Ash blinked, the bill no longer extending into his field of vision. "Wear it like this."

"Uh, why?" Ash turned around from where he had been reading. He lifted the hat briefly and adjusted the mess of hair underneath.

Gary shrugged. "It always helped you concentrate before."

"You remember that?"

He hadn't meant to voice the question, but it had taken him by surprise.

Gary shrugged again. The hat gesture didn't work, but Ash suspected it might have something more to do with the stupid fluttering in his chest than the position of the accessory.

Several sessions passed. A level of casual comfort was somehow established. Ash was willing to thank whatever powers that might have been for this, as he found getting along with Gary much more pleasant than nearly strangling one another.

"Will you teach me how to spin a baseball on my finger?"

"Get your feet off the dash!" Gary answered, eyes leaving the road only for a moment to glare at him. "How about this. I'll_ think_ about it."

"Come on," Ash insisted. The open book in his lap had gone untouched since the start of their drive, ten minutes prior.

"Have you turned a single _page_ of that book yet?"

Ash flipped to the next one with purposeful exaggeration, the sound of turning pages louder than necessary. He grumbled under his breath.

"Have you made a single_ left turn_ yet –"

"Break check."

Ash lurched forward with a gasp as the car halted violently. Gary laughed earnestly in the face of his glare.

_"That_ doesn't make you nervous?"

"I'm not nuts, we're on a side street," Gary returned. "Nothing was going to happen."

The drive continued in relative silence for a few minutes.

"So I was thinking," Gary started up again nonchalantly. "You never read that book. I know you don't, so don't even try to deny it. And even when I make you, you don't really remember any of it because you're not paying attention to what you read."

He didn't sound condescending, so Ash waited for him to go on. In fact, he sounded more relaxed than he usually did behind the wheel.

"So we're going to go to the park, and I'll pitch to you. I brought a bat and stuff. I'll ask you questions in between throws."

"What's that supposed to do?" Not that he was opposed to playing baseball over reading.

"Help you use your head, for once," he shrugged. Ash took offense, but didn't say anything because Gary was still using that relaxed tone, as if abrasive wording was just a habit and he didn't mean anything by it.

They pulled into the park soon after. Gary parked and took the bag from the backseat, slinging it over his shoulder. Ash followed him into the center of the field.

"Don't you need the book?" Ash suggested, taking the bat from the bag.

"Please," Gary snorted, retreating a distance with a mitt and the bag. "I took that class like, three years ago. I know that stuff. Plus, I asked Gramps about what you should really focus on."

He turned around, brandishing the baseball.

"Okay. Ready?"

Ash nodded, getting into position. Gary smirked a little when he reached up to turn his hat around.

"What makes up the interior of a cell?"

"Uh," Ash blinked. "Um…"

"Nope," Gary smirked wider, winding up. "Wrong!"

The ball flew towards him. Reflexively, he swung for it, hitting it square and sending it flying high.

"I didn't get to answer!" Ash cried. Gary was watching the ball hit the ground in the distance, facing away and shielding his eyes.

"_'Uh'_ is not the right answer," Gary looked back at him. "If you get them all wrong, you're picking up the baseballs yourself."

"What?" Ash's shoulders sagged. "How many did you bring?"

Gary peered into the bag laying in the grass beside him.

"Not enough," he sneered, snatching up another. "Okay, what's actin?"

"Uh – okay, hold on, I know this one –"

"Too slow!" He grinned devilishly and whipped the ball, which cracked loudly off the bat and went soaring. "Jeez, it's like you're not even trying, Ash –"

"I am trying if you'd just -!" He bit back his sentence when another ball came at him, striking it just barely and off-center. It flew off to the side. "_Gary!_ You didn't even ask anything!"

"Okay, okay," Gary was cackling, bent at the knees and his free hand without the mitt wrapped around his middle. "That one was just for fun. Alright, ready?"

Ash _did_ proceed to get every single question wrong. Somehow he still found himself smiling throughout the entire exercise, despite his abysmal performance. Gary laughed at some of his answers, but not the usual snide laugh that Ash had grown accustomed to hearing. The brunette still helped him round up the baseballs, despite his previous threat.

On the drive back, Ash was feeling bold, and Gary looked the most at ease that Ash had seen him in a long time.

"Hey," he began. "Let's take the freeway home."

"Huh?"

"Come on," Ash goaded, knowing the other male had heard him. "You'll be fine. You're a good driver. You just get nervous."

"Ash…"

There was something so uncharacteristic about his warning tone that was overtly endearing. It was so unlike the Gary Oak he was used to observing from afar to be unsure about anything, least of all his own abilities.

"If you're, you know…" Ash couldn't resist. He sighed a little dramatically, looking over at him. "…Not _ready,_ that's okay, too. If you_ can't handle it,_ it's fine."

There was a long silence. Ash waited until Gary answered, his eyes lingering.

"Alright," he announced, switching lanes, "okay, fuck you, Ash. We'll take the freeway, fine."

Ash tried his best to hide his smile by looking pointedly out the window. Things progressed in silence until Gary reached the entrance ramp.

"You need to go faster."

"I know!" Gary answered. The tension had returned, but he had at least shed a bit of his uptight posture, one hand retired from the steering wheel to the center box. Still, it was balled into a tight fist. "I know. I'm speeding up."

"Okay."

Gary merged flawlessly, though the highway turned out to be busier than Ash had anticipated. Gary was a good driver, he didn't just say so to build his confidence. The fear was all in his head, and if he could simply relax, Ash was sure that he could take a road test that very day and pass it well.

"This guy is riding my ass," Gary commented irritably, looking in his rear-view mirror.

"Don't worry about him," Ash advised. "You're already going pretty fast. Whatever his problem is, he'll go around you."

The man did – only to sharply cut them off.

"What the fuck!" Gary cried, and instinctively Ash reached over and placed his hand over Gary's balled fist on the center box. He hadn't thought a second on the action – they had held hands frequently as children, usually with Gary grabbing his and leading him around, to which Ash had readily followed. In third grade, a group of kids had cornered Ash and teased him, to which Gary intervened and grabbed his hand protectively. Ash couldn't remember the words that had been exchanged, only that they had never bothered him again. Their first day of primary school, Ash had been struck with uncharacteristic shyness, and Gary had snatched him by the hand and told him to come on.

(On occasions more rare, Ash had been the one to grab for him. The last time had been in front of a mangled car in the pouring rain. Gary had yanked his hand free, shoved Ash into the mud and punched him in the mouth).

It was entirely natural, even after so many years. Gary was next to him, upset. He needed to calm down. Take his hand.

The method worked. Gary's shoulders sagged and he exhaled. The car that had cut them off accelerated. Ash retracted his hand quickly nevertheless, unsure of his actions. They were not kids anymore, they were no longer close. But they had spent the entire day enjoying one another's company – were they truly as distant as Ash had thought them to be?

It occurred to him suddenly that he had and Gary had spent the day having _fun_ together.

"Asshole," Gary said without much vigor. He exhaled loudly and looked to check his blind spot as he switched lanes, and Ash flashed him a small smile. He returned it without mention of Ash's gesture. "Whatever. It was fine, I guess. I'm getting off the freeway now, though."

In Gary's driveway, Ash opened the door and headed towards his house a short walk away. He heard the driver's side door shut as Gary followed suit, but to his surprise the brunette called out to him before heading up the driveway to his own house.

"You want to come over tomorrow?"

Ash blinked and turned around. Gary was leaning over the car, arms folded across the hood.

"We don't have to meet up again until Thursday," Ash pointed out.

"I don't mean for tutoring," Gary shrugged, as if discouraging Ash from taking him seriously. "You could just, you know. Come over."

Ash stared blankly. Then, he answered with embarrassing haste.

"Yeah," he tried not to sputter on his answer. "Yeah, okay."

Once inside, his mother peppered him with the usual questions that followed a session with Gary. It felt odd, trying to give his usual annoyed replies through the horde of butterflies that had taken up residence in his rib cage.

"Did you two make up yet?"

This time when he said no, he dared to think that he could be lying.

* * *

The next day he could hardly sit still in class. It was stupid, because he had spent several days of the last few weeks at the Oak residence, but it wasn't stupid at all because for once in years, he actually felt invited.

He had given up trying to focus at all by eighth period. Gary actually approached him, half-naked in the locker room, to ask if they were still on that afternoon. His stomach had taken up residence in his throat.

He was supposed to head to the pool with Misty after class, but he texted her immediately to cancel.

_'Hey, so…I can't go to the pool today. Maybe tomorrow.'_

_'Uh, what. Why.'_

_'I'm kind of going over somebody's place.'_

_'Way to sound shady…who, spit it out.'_

_'No.'_

_'Ash.'_

_'Okay, it's Gary.'_

She had called him after that, but he had declined it. He didn't really know how to explain what was happening, and wasn't about to trust himself to try. He stuffed his phone into his backpack and told himself that he had lost it, in hopes he wouldn't feel bad for ignoring Misty later.

He wondered if Gary was feeling half as nervous as he was. It was unlikely, as the brunette always seemed sure of himself – except behind the wheel, but that was a fairly recent discovery anyway. Though logically, if Ash hadn't known that about him previously, there was more to Gary that he didn't know. Right?

Ash wasn't the best at applying logic anyway, so he abandoned the thought.

As it turned out his nerves were unfounded. They went to the park again and there was hardly a tense moment to speak of, aside from brief instances of bickering. One of which, Ash tried to finish off with a well-timed fast ball when his target looked away. This failed, and the ball came whipping back with force enough to give him a charlie horse fit to last hours.

Gary did try to teach him to spin a ball on his finger, though. Try.

"No, not like that," Gary found it very humorous that he was struggling so much. Ash was laughing too, but he wasn't sure why. It seemed to be the only thing that could shake loose the butterflies at home in his chest. Gary brought his hands up and adjusted Ash's carefully, considering each adjustment before he made it, trying to keep the ball steady.

Butterflies were a stupid word for whatever was going on behind his rib cage, and every time Gary's fingers brushed against his they beat their wings a lot more like violent, confused birds than delicate bugs.

On their way home, Gary posed a question.

"Do you still use your old number?"

Ash managed to nod. Back at home, he laid in bed and tossed a ball at the ceiling repeatedly until the phone next to his pillow lit up.

_'So there's this thing that I don't want to go to.'_

Ash didn't really see where the brunette was headed with that, but Gary Oak was texting him. He could have sent Ash a random assemblage of nonsense letters and he would have replied.

_'So skip it.'_

_'No can do, Ashy-boy. Party after game with the team. Captain can't just not show. Just come with me.'_

Ash blinked. Was Gary actually inviting him to a party?

Before he could formulate a reply, another text came through.

_'It's probably gonna suck and it's definitely gonna be a sausage fest but there will be booze so, I'm prioritizing.'_

Gary was inviting him to a party with his team. The guys he _actually_ knew and who actually knew _him_ - not like Ash, who was still trying to re-figure him out. They would all probably think that Ash was a huge loser. Ash would only know Gary. But there would be booze.

And there would be Gary.

_'C'mon, don't be a baby.'_

_'I'll go, I'll go,'_ he typed back quickly.

He was only prioritizing.


	3. Chapter 3

IN HONOR OF THE HOENN REMAKES, HAVE SOME SEXUALLY CHARGED DRUNK IDIOTS

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon.**

* * *

By the time Friday rolled around Ash had convinced himself that it would be okay. It would be totally worth a good time had with his former best friend, and he had admitted to himself that even if every sign screamed that it was going to go badly, he wasn't going to back out because everything else in his life dimmed into total irrelevance when Gary Oak was around.

Except baseball, but he had to have priorities.

Ash drove, because it was already dark and he didn't want to start things off on a bad note if he could help it. The last thing he needed was Gary getting tense and annoyed over nighttime driving and ditching him at a party where he knew no one. They still took the professor's van though, and parked halfway down the block.

The scene was loud, and the house was big – in Ash's opinion, at least. He got the feeling that everyone on the city team had money. More money than the Ketchum's did, not that that was a difficult feat. The party-goers erupted when Gary walked in, and despite his previous proclamation that he did not want to attend the event, the brunette's perfectly timed smiles and appropriate laughs suggested the opposite. The more Ash watched him – casually leaning against things and waving his hand dismissively, the swooning of everyone around him despite how snide his half-smile could look – the more he wondered how much of the Gary Oak he had seen from afar over the past few years was an act, and how much of it he truly meant.

Ash had made it through a beer by the time Gary reappeared from the crowd and pulled him from the couch into the kitchen. Shots of something unknown were being passed around, and one made it into his hand.

"Come on," Gary was barely audible over the music. Ash had some experience with alcohol – mostly from his recent eighteenth birthday, besides, Brock had been old enough to purchase it for a few years now – but he still got the impression that Gary had more experience in this field than him, as with most things. The way he tipped his head back and took the whole thing without much expression supported his theory. Ash followed suit, grimacing soon after. Gary's laughs punctuated the music.

More shots followed, everyone began to get friendly, and soon the scenario was significantly less strange. In fact it seemed perfectly natural to be at a loud, dimly lit party with Gary Oak and his rich friends, like it was an activity Ash regularly engaged in. The event began to wind down faster than Ash had anticipated, even though it could have been hours later for all he knew. His solid buzz did not bode well for getting them home, and he told Gary as much.

"Are you crazy?" The brunette scoffed. "We're crashing here, duh."

He followed Gary into the basement, which was vacant and chilly, the music muffled through the floor. There were several seating arrangements set up in the expansive room, but Gary dropped onto the nearest couch, arms splayed over the seats to either side of him. He smiled and then procured a bottle from beneath the furniture piece.

"How'd you know that was there?" Ash blinked. He didn't really know what it was – well, alcohol of course, but whatever kind – but Gary was smirking like it was a big deal and he had something to be proud of.

"I just know things," he answered, which was not much of an answer at all. He uncapped the bottle. "Come on. This stuff's good. Not like the shit upstairs."

Ash sank into the couch across Gary's, a coffee table positioned between the two seating arrangements. It looked oddly empty.

"We should play a game," he decided. "Do you have cards?"

Gary sat forward and looked down at the floor. Ash watched him, his thoughtful expression oddly cute. In his buzzed state he chuckled at the thought. Finding Gary Oak attractive was far from a drunken revelation – there weren't many people who didn't think so, anyway. Then the brunette bit his lower lip in thought, eyes rising from the floor and catching Ash's.

Okay, so Gary Oak wasn't just good looking, that was the understatement of the year. He was hot, he was _unrealistically_ hot, and ever since they had started occupying the same rooms without berating each other Ash had done little other than think about him. Hell, even before they had called this unsteady, unspoken truce Ash had spent far more time than he was willing to admit thinking about him.

_I have a huge girly crush on Gary._

The thought made him laugh. Though maybe, it had been the alcohol that made him laugh at the thought.

"No," Gary finally gave up. "You want to play something else, though? Twenty questions?"

"What's that?"

"Don't think too hard," Gary teased, cracking a smile. "We go back and forth with questions. We each get ten, you can ask whatever you want, there are no rules. The idea is if you really don't want to answer the question, you can take a shot instead. You have to be able to answer all of them with a 'yes' or a 'no', and you don't have to tell the story. Sometimes I've played it where if the person who asked the question really wants the story, _they_ take a shot and you have to tell it."

"Yeah, let's do it," Ash jumped in. The bottle was looking more appealing and he wasn't opposed to consuming more – the pleasant sensation clouding his head could only get better with more, couldn't it? "I'll play."

Gary grinned at that.

"Okay," he said. "We'll just take them out of the bottle. All the shot glasses are upstairs. You can start."

Ash lingered for a second, unsure of what to ask. Put on the spot, all of his questions about Gary fizzled out of mind.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" He blurted. Gary leaned back into the couch.

"Nope," he answered plainly. "If I did I probably would have brought her to this party, don't ya think?"

Ash lacked the focus at the moment to read too far into that. Gary jumped right into his own question.

"Have you _ever_ had a girlfriend?"

Ash immediately laughed, throwing his face into his hands and leaning over between his knees. Gary threw his head back and cackled.

"I knew it," he breathed through laughter, "oh my god, I knew it."

"Fuck you, Gary!" Ash rose up and shouted, but he was smiling.

"You could probably get with that Misty girl who is always around you," he pointed out, and Ash shook his head immediately.

"No, no," he recoiled from the idea, still laughing. "What? I wouldn't date Misty. We're friends."

"Whatever you say," Gary shrugged. Ash rerouted the conversation again.

"So I haven't had a girlfriend. How would _you_ know, anyway."

"Just because I didn't talk to you doesn't mean I didn't know you were there," his chuckles died down and Ash's next question came forth with suddenness.

"So why didn't you talk to me?" he asked, voice not nearly as forceful or righteous as he had imagined it would be if he ever got the gall to pose the question. "What did I do to you, anyway?"

Gary was silent for a second. His face was painted with pink flush, but at his hesitation Ash briefly wondered if he was not feeling the effects of alcohol as heavily as Ash was and was still level-headed enough to consider the seriousness of the question.

"You only get to ask one," Gary answered simply, more quietly. "That's two questions. And they aren't yes or no."

"Fine," he adjusted, "did I do something to you?"

"You realize there's no point in me answering this shit if you're not gonna remember any of it tomorrow, right?"

"Answer or take your shot, Gary," he retorted, growing more frustrated with the brunette's evasiveness. Gary scowled, but it didn't pack his usual punch, and took a large swig from the bottle. Ash groaned.

"Here's a question. Are you trying to get me drunk enough to answer stupid stuff like this?"

Ash shrugged. "I didn't really think about it like that, but I guess I kind of am. Did you just get sick of me? Is that why you dropped me like that?"

"I didn't drop you."

"Yeah, you did," Ash insisted. "Yes or no."

"No," Gary grated out, looking more irritated. "Fine, no. Do you want me to punch you in the mouth?"

"You have before," Ash challenged, and there was a long, tense silence. The irritated expression dropped from Gary's face. The edges of his mouth quivered.

"Yeah," he giggled unexpectedly, and there was no other word to describe it, bubbling out of his throat with sudden lightheartedness that the tense line of Ash's mouth threatened to split into a grin. "God, I'm stupid. That was so _stupid."__  
_

Another brief silence, then punctured by Ash's sudden and explosive laughter. He threw his head forward and nearly caught it on the coffee table, arms thrown around his sides. Gary threw his head back against the couch and his eyes screwed shut as he burst into laughter of his own, the two of them silent for a moment except for their respective fits.

Ash had no idea what was so funny. There was absolutely nothing funny about what they were referring to, absolutely nothing funny about the both of them in tears while the brunette balled up his fist and hit him as hard as he could. There was nothing funny about how his lip had been swollen and split for weeks or about the next five years of back and forth confrontation, of pretending they had never been close.

But Ash felt the most absurd sense of relief, so uplifting that he couldn't help but laugh out loud at hearing Gary admit, even in the slightest of ways, what an ass he had been. How even if they were both drunk and none of what they were saying truly counted for anything, at least he had heard it once. How even if it wasn't a real apology, it sounded like one.

"You're a dick," Ash looked up, still gripping his sides, laughter not quite dead. "You're the biggest dick I've ever met."

Gary wasn't done laughing about it either, even with Ash hurling insults with a smile, and the entire experience was oddly surreal. The brunette managed to lower his chin and actually look at him, shoulders still shaking a little.

"I know," he admitted earnestly, "I know."

Their laughter tapered off, leaving Ash with an out-of-place smile.

"It's my turn," he said, and Gary raised his brows as if imploring him to go on. His arms were still splayed out on either side of the couch, and he wore a lopsided grin. "Are we not fighting anymore?"

Gary chuckled. Ash suddenly felt that the question was horribly foolish and echoed it.

"Not unless you want to be," he shrugged casually. "My turn."

"Okay. What number are we on, anyway?"

Gary ignored him, unconcerned. "So how far have you gone?"

Ash instantly felt beet red. The liquor heat rushed to his face. For once he felt his nerves bind his tongue instead of make it loose.

"C'mon," Gary smirked. Ash did not feel swayed in the slightest, pouring a shot. "Oh, you're really gonna just –"

"Shut up," Ash threw the liquid back hastily. He was not going to admit how woefully inexperienced he was, _certainly _not to Gary, who probably couldn't count the girls he had been with on both hands. There was no way _he_ was a virgin, not the way he looked, not with the way he was looking at Ash.

_Wait, what?_

"You're not gonna tell me?" He pouted teasingly. Ash's face still felt unreasonably hot. "You're not embarrassed, are you, Ashy-boy?"

Fuck, there was that stupid nickname again. Which he loved.

"It's my turn," he answered, regaining his voice. Gary ignored him.

"So you're straight, right?" He asked suddenly, a lilt at the end of his question, grinning slyly like he already expected a certain answer. Ash felt his breath leave him.

"_It's my turn," _he regained it quickly, the statement half forceful laughter, breathed out more than intended. Because Gary couldn't be serious, because there was absolutely nothing that Gary could gain from knowing the answer to that question, and Ash was going to lie straight through his teeth anyway if the brunette really made him answer it.

"Is that a yes or a no?"

"It's a 'this isn't your fucking turn'," he answered hastily and without any fire. Alcohol was dulling his awareness but he still had enough of his wits about him to know that he _couldn't _just answer that, _should _keep his mouth shut at all costs about his sexuality around Gary Oak. "You're drunk."

"Uh-huh," he didn't bother denying it. "You're drunk, too. I'm only asking because you've never had a girlfriend."

"Stop looking at me like that," like he was a piece of meat that had thus far gone unnoticed, like a mouse that the cat had only just realized he could catch if he tried. But Ash didn't mean his protest, definitely didn't mean it in the slightest. Gary raised his brows and his lips curved downward just slightly in amusement, blue eyes scanning him up and down. Then, they looked away towards the ceiling.

"Okay."

"_Gary," _he tried to laugh, he really did, because Gary was being so absurd and so unlike himself and he sort of felt like he had been plucked from real life and dropped into a fantasy, but alcohol was not a hallucinogen.

"Can't hear you," he droned, looking around purposefully. "Guess you're gonna have to come over here."

Ash had no clue whether to get annoyed that Gary was messing with him or to actually believe that he was not, but there was simply no way that he wasn't, there was no way that any amount of booze could make _thee _Gary Oak shamelessly flirt with him. No.

Yet there they were, and Ash was going to shrug off his only shot. Or he wasn't. He was partially stunned into inaction, unable to make a decision.

"Why do you look so confused?" Gary laughed lightly, and leaned forward to extend his hand. "Just come here."

Ash took it because that was what he did. It was only natural. Gary hadn't reached out for him in years, but it was an old and familiar gesture nonetheless. The brunette pulled him in with the gentlest force. Ash expected him to stop when he was close, but he didn't, not even when he had to step over the coffee table. When he reached the edge of the couch the brunette tugged on his fingers again, ghosting the tips of his fingers over Ash's palms, and the dark-haired boy inhaled sharply.

"Oh?" He raised his brows and smirked. Of course he had to notice. Ash swallowed hard and tugged his hand back.

"Stop being weird," he chastised.

"Alright, alright," Gary relented, rolling his eyes lightheartedly like he really was going to stop tormenting him, but then, even though there was next to no space between them, the brunette stood up. They were all but nose to nose, chest to chest, and Ash's heart skipped a beat. There was not more than an inch between their lips. Gary's voice was a significantly lowered whisper when he went on. "You're blushing."

"You've looked like you're blushing all night," Ash tried to shoot the comment back, but it came out sort of shaky, and Gary grinned.

"Alcohol," he offered. Ash swallowed again. "Not my fault. Kind of embarrassing."

Ash's eyes fluttered closed for a split second, his lips parting just barely when Gary's hands reached up on either side of him, and he was so, so certain for a moment that Gary was going to kiss him, that when the bill of his hat slid to the back of his head he actually laughed softly at his own foolishness.

"Why do you keep doing that?" He asked in a tone he thought was quiet. There was such little distance between them even he felt there was no need for much noise, but he was having trouble gauging his volume accurately.

"Because I like it," Gary answered, his fingers trailing along Ash's forehead, trying to shoo away unruly bangs.

It was definitely him who had leaned forward and kissed Gary, but it had been the booze's idea more so than his own. He didn't have enough rationale left in his head to panic when their lips met, and for a second the contact was all that he could feel, that and the buzzing of his head and body with both intoxication and excitement.

The drinks he had consumed that night rushed up on him all at once. He didn't know how they had ended up on a single couch, Ash's back pressed into the cushions. His vision was blurring, but Gary was wearing the most dazzling smile and at least he could make that out. Ash would have felt downright stupid for thinking of any guy's smile as dazzling if it weren't so true. It helped that he felt like he was floating, buzzing, and moving in all directions at once even though he wasn't moving at all.

Gary was hovering over him and then they were kissing again, the brunette's hands cupped under his jaw, cradling it and angling his face upward. Ash made a sound of desperation, a nervous cross between a moan and a chuckle and mumbled words against Gary's lips.

"I'm drunk," he decided, the realization falling into place pleasantly. "I'm really, really drunk."

"Mhm," Gary hummed. His thumbs swept down under his chin and grazed lightly over his throat. Ash arched his back without meaning to.

"Gary," he tried to insist, but his breaths were coming out all choppy and it was puncturing his sentences. He didn't think Gary noticed because he was still trying to nip at his bottom lip. "I'm so _drunk."_

"So _nervous,_" Gary mimicked his tone, smirking a little bit, the barest flash of white teeth. "Don't be so nervous."

"I'm not nervous," he argued, and to demonstrate his point he brought up his hands and slid them over the plane of Gary's back, curling his fingers against the fabric. Gary let out the slightest groan and Ash wasn't sure why he was still trying to speak, but if he _didn't _keep speaking who only knew what was going to happen next. Not that he was _opposed _to that, whatever it could be, but he was also - shit, he _was_ nervous. "I'm not."

"Uh-huh."

Their lips were blending together and Gary was tugging off his jeans. Ash raised his hips to help, and he wanted to reach up and pull off Gary's but then the brunette slipped his hand inside his boxers and he lost the thought.

"F-fuck," he breathed, and at that point he had no control over the shuddering of his voice. He whimpered when the brunette's thumb slid over the wet tip. "Gary."

Gary's expression was smoldering and his lips were red from abuse.

"Sh," he warned, his voice husky, face flushed from alcohol and heat. "Don't let them hear you."

Things fazed out again, and time seemed to be speeding up and slowing down out of his control. They were splayed out across the floor, the carpet cool and scratchy against Ash's bare skin, Gary casting a shadow over him, forearm beside Ash's face supporting him as he hunched over the other teen. They were kissing again, aggressive, urgent, the sounds of heavy breathing and Ash's moaning and the muffled beat of music blaring through the ceiling mingling together. They were both shirtless and Gary's skin electrified him where it touched his and he could feel the brunette's hard-on against his thigh and all he could think or understand was how badly he wanted Gary, he didn't care about anything else and he was so drunk that he could hardly see, all that mattered was Gary, he wanted Gary _so, so_ bad –

* * *

He woke up suddenly, jerking into a sitting position violently. His head began to pound immediately. His tongue felt like a cactus growing in the desert. He looked around with confused urgency. He was not home, not at Gary's, not at the house where they had been the night before. It took him a slow moment to realize where he was.

"Brock?" He called out into the room. He was in Brock's bed. Surely there should have been more noise in Brock's house, though – he wanted to check the time, but he didn't have the slightest clue where his phone was. He looked down at himself. His shirt was peppered with stains that looked all-too likely to be vomit.

The door creaked open and the man in question revealed himself. Ash still felt urgently puzzled and alarmed.

"How did I get here?" He barreled into the issue immediately. "What happened?"

Brock closed the door behind him and took a deep breath.

"You called me at five this morning," he began with a tone that indicated Ash was not the only confused one present, "to come pick you up from some party. You couldn't even give me good directions, so some random kid at the place had to do it. You were so drunk, Ash. I couldn't even believe it. Gary carried you out of the house and to my car."

Ash groaned loudly. "No."

"Yeah. That wasn't even the weirdest part, believe me. Gary was being really friendly, so…did you guys make up or something? I thought my jaw was going to hit the floor when I saw him carrying you out to the car. I'm glad Misty didn't answer you, she might have given him a piece of her mind."

"I called Misty?"

"Only dozens of times," Brock explained. "Trust me, I don't have any better an idea of what you were doing last night than you do."

He groaned again and brought one hand up to his head. With alarm that overshadowed his similar feelings about the rest of the night, he realized his fingers had met his hair without obstruction, and looked around to find the bed and nearby surfaces empty of what he was searching for. "Shit, Brock, where's my hat?"

Brock made a face.

"Uh, Gary was wearing it," he answered, then shrugged and headed back out of the room. "I don't know, Ash, don't ask me."

Ash flopped back down onto the bed with a groan. He was going to have to sort the night out eventually, and he was not looking forward to it. He closed his eyes and tried to remember what he could.

_Got to the party, had a beer, went into the kitchen...shots...me and Gary went downstairs. Okay. That's a start._

Which was about when his memories became fuzzy and unreliable.

_More shots...maybe more shots. Probably more shots. I don't really remember...lots of questions?_

He inhaled sharply and sat up.

_No. No, no, no, no way._

Those were hazy memories of his hands at Gary Oak's belt. Fleeting memories of skin-to-skin contact.

_Oh my God._

He was going to panic. There was no way the things he was remembering had really happened, but he had memories of them, so there was no way he was making _that _up. He glanced down at his shirt, still peppered with strange stains.

Maybe the most pressing question was not where his hat had ended up, or even what had happened between him and Gary - but _when_ exactly he had puked, particularly in the middle of _what _and on _who._

He would deal with all of that later. Much later, after he caught up on sleep in Brock's bed, after his head stopped pounding, after he drank approximately two gallons of water.

Most importantly, after he could think about the previous night without feeling physically sick with embarrassment.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon.**

* * *

"Where's your hat?" His mother had asked immediately. He had hoped to sneak past her to his room, but to no avail. "I thought you were going to be home earlier."

He had spent the morning and half of the afternoon sleeping off his hangover at Brock's. Eventually it had become impossible to mooch his friend's bed any longer, as the youngest Harrison siblings had realized a guest was present and descended on him in a horde. Yes, he had told his mother that he would be home that morning, but his crippling hangover had taken precedence over everything, most of all moving from the bed.

"I, uh..." he fumbled with his words slightly, "left it at Gary's. I'm gonna go pick it up later."

That wasn't exactly a lie - if he could gather up the guts to actually walk in the direction of Gary's house, much less look him in the eye and request his hat back. He retreated into his room and prayed that his mother wouldn't follow him with more questions. Once safely behind the closed door of his bedroom, he paused for a second, back pressed against the wood, before sighing with momentary relief that she had not. Out of hot water with her for the time being, he crawled into bed and pulled out his phone.

Why didn't he have his hat? Why had he woken up at Brock's? Why did he have flashbulb memories of Gary and...?

_No, nope, just ignore it._

He scrolled through his contacts briefly before settling on a name. He spent a minute or so grappling with the potential consequences of his intended actions.

_'May, I need to tell you something.'_

He sent the text and instantly regretted it. But he couldn't tell Misty, and he didn't want to explain the situation to any of his guy friends, even Brock – May Maple was his next best choice. They had been friends ever since she had moved to Pallet Town, and even though they were usually on completely different pages with every possible matter, he did trust her.

As usual, she replied within minutes.

_'Oh boy, what is it.'_

_'Can you keep a secret? I know you can't, but seriously, for me, can you do it just this once. I gotta tell somebody or I'll explode.'_

_'Ugh, I guess.'_

A few grades younger than him, May was possibly the Gary Oak of her year. She was constantly surrounded by friends and followers, led the drama club and cheer leading, and nearly everyone wanted to sleep with her. She was also a notoriously big gossip, but she was known to make exceptions for her true friends, and that was where Ash needed her to come through for him.

_'I mean it.'_

_'Okay! God, just tell me.'_

_'Okay, well I went to this party with Gary last night. Gary Oak.'_

_'Uh, what.'_

_'I might kind of have some fuzzy memories of some stuff.'_

_'What kind of stuff.'_

He paused, fingers lingering above the keyboard. He was so dumb. He needed to work on keeping things to himself and not just blurting them to whatever friend appeared most available and convenient. But he needed to get this out and there was no one else to tell.

_I suck, _he thought to himself as he put the nail in his own coffin.

_'Gay stuff.'_

_'OH MY GOD.'_

The text onslaught began. With each message, his phone lit up and vibrated anew.

_'I hate you!'_

_'You're so lucky it's NOT FAIR!'_

_'I've been ready to have sex with Gary Oak since I transferred here! Since I stepped foot in Pallet High!'_

_'I'M DROOLING.'_

Ash glared at the phone and formulated the only reply he could think of. He tried to push the mental image of May salivating over Gary out of his mind. A shiver rushed down his spine anyway.

_'Stop, I'm gonna throw up.'_

_'Ash, you have to define 'gay stuff'. What am I supposed to do with that little information?!'_

He slammed on the caps lock key and replied as quickly as possible.

_'NOTHING, DON'T DO ANYTHING WITH IT, THAT'S THE POINT.'_

_'I need details.'_

There was no way that he was going to spell the night out for her. He could hardly spell it out for himself, with his hazy memories.

_'No.'_

_'It's important to me!'_

_'NO.'  
_

_'Here, let me help. Did you, or did you not witness the glory that is Gary Oak's penis? Also, were you speechless at how godly it was?'_

He shut his phone, but it lit up again shortly after, and he decided to look on the offhanded chance that May had followed up with something mature and helpful.

_'Also did you drool (on it).'_

He shut the device and dropped it off of his bed onto the floor. He ended up hanging off the edge of the bed, staring as _'new text message from May Maple'_ flashed across the outer screen anew every few minutes, until a name distinctly _not_ May Maple's appeared.

He hesitated to open it. He thought of his hat for encouragement.

_'Got a couple of serious questions.'_

Ash swallowed at Gary's text. The questions came before he could request them.

_'Where are you/are you alive and why do I have your hat?'_

Ash typed back quickly.

_'I'm at home. I woke up at Brock's. I don't know anything.'_

_'Do you remember any of last night? All of the alcohol in the house is gone. Which was a lot.'_

His mind stalled. Should he tell the truth? Should he lie? Would Gary know if he was lying? Were any of the things he thought he remembered real anyway? Maybe he didn't remember anything and his mind was filling in the blanks with hopeful fantasies. Maybe he had just outed himself to May Maple for no reason.

Maybe he really needed to look into learning some restraint, or common sense.

_'I don't know.'_

He couldn't come up with a more intelligent answer, but he did think to add something else.

_'Do you?'_

Gary's reply was short and to the point.

_'Yeah.'_

He thought for a second that the other boy wasn't going to elaborate, until he received another message.

_'I don't know, I have to think. I'm going to drive home and shower.'_

Ash shut his phone and his eyes, and though he knew a shower was a good idea, he decided on another nap instead.

* * *

"What the hell?"

Ash's locker slammed shut unexpectedly in his face. His hands recoiled from where he had been trying to remove his backpack, the shoulder strap of which was now trapped in the door of the locker. A pale hand was splayed across the metal. Ash blinked, eyes darting to the right and landing on the culprit.

"Misty –"

"You've skipped every plan we've had the past few weeks, you never tell me what you're up to anymore, and you only ever call me when you're _blacked out _at four in the morning now? Some best friend _you _are, Ash Ketchum!"

"Misty, just hold on –" Ash tried to hold up his hands passively, eyes darting around to where students on their way to class were staring and making faces as they passed. Misty's brows met in the center of her face and the hand at her side was balled into a fist.

"And if you think Brock didn't tell me _who _you were with on Friday, you're an idiot! And you're an even _bigger _idiot for giving that assholethe time of day -!"

"_Misty," _he was urgently trying to bring her volume down, holding out his hands in a manner that was meant to soothe and clearly was not working. "I have to go to class. _You _have to go to class."

"Not until I figure out what's going on with you," she took her hand from the locker and jammed him in the chest with one finger. He flinched. "What the hell is your problem lately?"

"Can you just –" He glanced around again, " – quiet down? Please? I'll tell –"

"Don't tell me to _quiet down, _Ash!"

"Ow!" He cried when she jabbed him again, then grabbed his ear more aggressively. "I'll tell you, I'll _tell _you, stop!"

Ash was trying to pretend that people were not passing by them and staring, but that became glaringly impossible when a familiar brunette sauntered up and threw her forearm onto his shoulder.

"Oh, _Ash...! _How is your…" she winked and Ash paled. His eyes flickered from where May was wiggling her eyebrows suggestively on his shoulder back to Misty, who was glaring tangible daggers in the brunette's direction. "…Little situation?"

"I don't have a little situation, May," Ash tried to shrug her away casually. The motion manifested as tense and awkward.

"Oh, sorry," her smile gleamed. "_Big _situation, right? I should have guessed, silly me…"

_I'm going to kill her. I'm going to kill her, I'm going to kill her, I'm going to –_

"_May," _he strained, but before he could carry on Misty turned her icy glare back towards him.

_If Misty doesn't kill me first._

"Why is she being like that?" She held out her finger in an accusatory fashion, speaking as if May was not with them. The brunette giggled.

"Oh-_kay, _Ash! I'll just check up with you later, since you seem busy…but you'll probably be _busy_ later, too, right? I would be…!"

Ash's eyes followed her in horror as she skipped off down the hall. He made a mental note to exact revenge at the soonest opportunity and swallowed hard, returning his focus to Misty again.

"Oh, no," she began with narrowed eyes. "You told _May Maple _what's going on with you but not me?"

"That's not -!" But he couldn't finish his sentence.

"Fine," Misty spat out. "Fine! Trust the school's biggest gossip and not me. Who am I, anyway? I've only known you since we were ten!"

"Come on, Misty," his shoulders sagged and he sighed, "don't be like this –"

"Screw you too, Ash!" She concluded, stomping off down the hallway. The bell rang out through the hall, declaring him late to class. Again.

* * *

He didn't see Gary until after school. The brunette was absent from eighth period, which led Ash to believe that maybe they weren't meeting up as previously scheduled – maybe Gary remembered everything and it was going to be too awkward, and he was calling the entire thing off and Ash would fail biology and never play baseball again. Maybe he didn't remember anything and was genuinely sick. Maybe he was going to play it cool whether or not he remembered anything at all and they were still meeting up.

It turned out to be the third option. Ash did his best to act casual in kind. He was not as good at playing cool as Gary.

"Where were you today?" He cleared his throat in a way that he hadn't meant to sound obnoxious, but had sort of come out that way. The ride to the park had been dead silent besides the hum of the engine and the soft murmur of bad radio music. He wasn't used to feeling so tense while playing baseball. Gary was lined up to throw the first pitch, but he hadn't named a question yet.

Ash was starting to think that the only enjoyable part of their meeting today would be that he had finally gotten his hat back.

"Don't worry about it," he dismissed, making Ash's brows meet. He was looking at Ash, but at the same time it was more like he was looking through him. "Ready?"

Ash bit the inside of his cheek. He wanted to argue that no, he wasn't ready at all, that there was a huge white elephant in the room and he didn't want to ignore it like Gary so obviously did, but he said none of those things. He didn't trust himself to say anything at all, so he nodded curtly and spun his hat around.

He didn't do too badly. In fact it was the best that he had done yet, for once answering more questions correctly than he had incorrectly, but he couldn't celebrate with the tension that he was drowning in. Luckily for them it did not begin to rain until they were already finished with the session. They hurried to the car and slammed the doors on either side of the van shut.

Ash felt the lack of space between them with sudden intensity. Water dripped from Gary's bangs as he put the key in the ignition and pushed them back absentmindedly with his free hand.

"If it rains during my road test…" Gary mumbled in a warning tone to no one in particular. Ash wasn't really listening. He was staring though, the hum of the rain against the roof of the van the only background noise until the engine came to life.

"Did you just skip today or what?" He kept at his previous question. Gary let out a breath and rolled his eyes.

"I'll show you when we get back if you really want to know," he relented surprisingly easily. Ash nodded, though he didn't quite understand what he needed to be shown as opposed to told. Ash noticed that some of the tension had returned to Gary's shoulders that was normally absent now, and wondered fleetingly if he was not as comfortable as he appeared, and if it had nothing at all to do with driving.

"You can pull over, if you want," Ash suggested gently. The rain was quickly becoming so bad that the suggestion was valid, not something offered out of sympathy. Gary shook his head briefly.

"No," he said adamantly. "But I can't see shit. How do I get these windshield wipers to go faster?"

"They're already on the fastest setting," Ash pointed out. He was certain that Gary already knew that. "Just give it a minute and the rain will probably pass. But really, if you want to pull over, it's fine, tons of people do it when the weather is this -"

"No," he insisted again, his tone exuding calm. His knuckles were white against the steering wheel. "It's fine."

Ash looked away, his mouth full of questions that had nothing to do with the weather or Gary's attendance record. He kept his eyes locked out the window, focusing on the dam of his lips and willing it not to burst.

It wasn't going to work, he realized as they turned down another street. He had been foolishly optimistic to think that he could play along with Gary's cool indifference. He could never keep his mouth shut.

"Gary."

"Just spit it out," Gary answered immediately, catching him off guard. Ash looked over, and the brunette even spared his eyes from the road for the briefest moment to make imploring eye contact. "There was no chance you weren't gonna bring it up eventually. You lasted longer than I thought you would."

Ash opened his mouth to reply, but Gary's eyes widened and he let out an uncharacteristic gasp. One arm flew out in front of Ash and an open palm smacked him in the chest. The car lurched forward abruptly and ground to a halt, and despite the hand meant to brace him Ash flew forward into the dashboard, hands whipping out to catch himself, muscles tensing. No great impact followed – Ash lifted his head to the road in front of them.

"We're fine," Ash mumbled, the car in front of them inches from being struck in the side by the professor's van after having pulled out in front of them. Ash grabbed Gary's hand still splayed out in front of his chest and squeezed it before opening the car door.

"Are you – Ash –"

He shut it again without listening to Gary's budding statement and approached the other car, the driver likewise stepping from his vehicle. He looked genuinely concerned and confused.

"I'm so sorry," the man began. "I couldn't see – I could have sworn the road was clear. It's this damn rain."

Ash deflated. He had initially planned – well, something, at least. He hadn't come up with a plan, but Gary's expression had sparked a defensive fire in his chest. But the man looked truly sorry, and pulling out in front of them had clearly been an accident. Ash exhaled.

"It's okay," his shoulders sagged. The rain pelted down on them both, a moment between strangers of concern and relief, before they exchanged farewells and Ash turned towards the van again. He found Gary already out of it, the vehicle in park but still running, the brunette leaning his back against the side. He put his palms over his face and scrubbed as Ash approached.

"We're fine," Gary spoke up before he could offer anything, running his hands through his hair a few times. The rain pelted down, quickly beginning to drench them both. Ash said nothing about it. "Didn't even hit the guy."

"No," Ash heard the man behind him start up his engine and the sounds of his tires against wet cement as he pulled away. They were still parked in the middle of the street. "We'd better move the car."

Gary nodded but didn't move. He was leaned up against the driver's side door.

"I can drive home," Ash offered. Purposefully, he did not phrase the offer as a question. If he asked, he knew Gary would feel compelled to say no.

"No," he said anyway, hands falling from his ashen face. He exhaled and pushed away from the van, turning around and grabbing the handle. "Let's go."

Ash paused as Gary got behind the wheel. Blinking, he returned to the passenger seat, rain dripping from them both and onto the seats.

"I'll drive us home," he offered again, more assuredly. "Really."

"No," Gary denied him, not looking him in the face. It took him two tries to get the key in the ignition. Ash noticed the faint shaking of his hand. "I'm driving, so just shut up about it. I have to."

The ride back progressed in silence. Neither of them reached for the radio. Ash stared out the window and spared the brunette only small, brief glances. His breathing was purposefully deep and even, like he was putting conscious effort into it. It was clear to Ash that his chance to speak up had been ruined, and he felt no small measure of disappointment toiling in his gut.

He could have spoken up again anyway, but he did not. The few moments he looked back from the window to Gary's profile, he found that he couldn't force the words out. Not with the way Gary was staring down the road.

In his driveway, Ash paused once in the car and once just outside it, watching Gary carefully. He didn't know what to say to him, and though he had calmed down considerably since the near-accident he still looked pale. When the other boy said nothing to him and began to head up his driveway, Ash turned away and began to walk towards his own house.

He felt something akin to bitterness as his footsteps carried him further away from his neighbor. Of course something had happened just as Gary had given him permission to breach the subject that he so desperately needed to talk about. Why he needed Gary's permission anyway, he didn't know. Maybe he didn't want to talk about it as badly as he felt that he did, or wouldn't he just blurt it out regardless of whether Gary wanted to hear about it?

"I'll see you tomorrow, then," he sort of tossed over his shoulder.

"Ash," Gary called unexpectedly, and Ash turned around. He tried not to look too hopeful. "Wait."

He was already waiting. Gary was between the van and his house, like he had started up the drive and then decided against it. He had his thumbs in his jean pockets but was looking up towards the sky and a puff of air passed his lips. Ash continued to wait.

"Huh?"

"You know what you were going to mention before," Gary began, somewhat hesitant compared to his usual tone. Ash felt his chest tighten.

"Yeah," he tried to shrug but the motion came out jerky. His heartbeat quickened.

"We, uh..." Then it happened, Ash actually saw it unfold before his own eyes, and the brunette went from the Gary Oak that he knew from the past to the Gary Oak he had seen from afar for five years. He rolled his shoulders and exhaled in a way that was much more confident than before and he smiled, a self-assured smile that was not quite cocky but certainly not what Ash wanted to see on his face at the moment. Maybe it would have been more arrogant, if he still didn't look sick from the near-collision earlier. "Probably shouldn't do that anymore, you know? Shit happens at parties. It's whatever."

Ash blinked. For a second he didn't say anything at all.

"Yeah," he settled on a response. "Shit happens."

_Shit happens,_ the words played in his mind repeatedly even though Gary was starting to talk again._ Shit happens._

"We didn't talk for so long, and you know," Gary kept saying that, that Ash _'knew',_ but the darker-haired boy didn't feel like he knew anything at all, "that's all complicated stuff."

_What does that mean? What's 'complicated stuff'? What am I supposed to 'know'? _

Gary paused, clearly waiting for his reply. A brief, expectant moment passed through his expression, but it was immediately replaced by cool indifference. Ash realized that he was not familiar with who was standing in front of him, that he did not know whoever the shell was that Gary put on in front of the rest of the school. Maybe it wasn't a shell at all but who he truly was now, and the glimpses he got of the Gary from before were only there when Ash was. Did that make those glimpses less real? He wanted to shout but he refrained, because he couldn't decide exactly what it was that he wanted to say.

_Why do you have to be like this? _

He swallowed.

"Right."

His tongue seemed to swell up and prevent any further response. He shut his mouth as unsteadily as he had opened it.

Gary still waited. He seemed confused when Ash didn't carry on. He might have expected him to ramble, but Ash wasn't feeling nervous. In its place he felt ill and stupid.

He pulled his phone unsteadily from his pocket, flicking it open and glancing downwards at it. There was an awkward pause where Gary glanced at the phone, then back up at Ash. Ash typed with one thumb, wanting to move faster but unable to will his hand to do so.

_'I'm sorry and I've been a shit friend and I'll apologize in person if you want and grovel and everything. Just text Brock and get me out of here.'_

"Hey," Gary spoke more softly, and Ash looked up and pocketed the cell phone. It vibrated suddenly, much sooner than he had anticipated with Misty ignoring him as she was, but he didn't look at it. "I'm not trying to be a dick, okay?"

"Yeah, you don't really have to try." the words slipped out before he could consider them.

Gary's collected expression slipped for a second. Ash thought he saw something like disappointment.

"I mean it," he repeated. His face now matched his gentle tone, but Ash was trying to ignore it, trying to ignore everything, trying to focus on what Misty's text might say and how badly he needed her or Brock to appear in his driveway and take him literally anywhere else. Gary ran his hand through his hair and suddenly sighed, looking around at the sky like from it would fall the words he was looking for. "I missed you, alright? When we didn't talk. Like, a lot. So I'm kind of trying not to fuck it up, okay? Do you get what I'm saying?"

"Okay," he replied instantly, ignoring the way his stomach turned _('shit happens')_ and the way his chest felt like it was swelling and going to explode _('I missed you')_ and how those two feelings contradicted each other so starkly and how his head felt like a collection of scribbles on paper. "Yeah, okay, I get it."

He didn't get it. He didn't get Gary. He was starting to think he never would. The brunette still looked oddly flustered and it just made Ash feel more confused, more frustrated. Gary was making honesty look like being dragged across hot coals.

"I'm not trying to –" he struggled to get the words out for a moment, looking around at anywhere but Ash. "I knew what I was going to say and everything, but that stupid fucking guy who pulled out in front of us got me all rattled and now - I don't know, if we could just keep doing what we were before, it'd be –"

"Better," Ash volunteered the word. It seemed to fit the tone of what Gary was trying to say, even though Ash didn't agree with it at all. "Yeah. I get it."

Gary nodded faintly.

"Cool," he offered. His relaxed expression and stance returned again, thumbs back in his jean pockets. Ash's phone buzzed again. "I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Yeah," he agreed curtly, preparing to turn tail and head for the house, but his feet felt rooted to the ground. It was over. They were done talking about it. He remembered something abruptly as Gary made a move towards his house. "Weren't you supposed to show me something?"

"Oh, yeah," Gary smiled faintly, a sort of embarrassed thing, and Ash felt that familiar rush of butterflies despite how horribly he had just been shut down. "Don't laugh, okay?"

Ash didn't see how anything could make him laugh at the moment, but it was a good thing that he didn't promise not to, because the corners of his mouth twitched violently when Gary lifted the front of his shirt to reveal a horrible shade of red blotched across his chest.

"Sexy, right?" Gary chuckled, and Ash burst into laughter because he didn't know what else to do. It was funny that Gary – the epitome of cool – had suffered a laughable and embarrassing sunburn, it was funny that he was embarrassed to go to school and attend swim class with a peeling chest, and Ash had just been so badly rejected that it had to be funny otherwise it was painfully sad and pathetic. He clutched his sides and screwed his eyes shut.

Bad sunburn was up there on the list of most unattractive things a person could accidentally inflict on themselves, but there was Gary's stupid chest, peeling and red, and yeah, frankly it was still sexy. The sunburn, no, but Ash could have put that out of his mind if Gary had asked him to. Easily.

But he was so, so shot down, and there was no chance for him to recover from it. They were done talking about it and this was further proof of that. Within the hour Gary was going to be entirely closed off to the subject, if he wasn't already. Gary was good at that, at brushing things off his shoulders, in a way that Ash had never been able to grasp.

The entire night had been a drunken, one-time thing, and Ash's laughter tapered off abruptly.

"I woke up on a pool float," Gary ignored his outburst, "in the pool in the yard. I don't know, don't ask. I drank too much. But you already know that."

The last part hit him rather unexpectedly in the stomach. He tried not to let it show. If it did, Gary ignored it.

"Whatever," the brunette waved his hand and turned back towards his own house. He was smiling though, with shining white teeth. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Ash's strained smile slipped entirely as Gary disappeared into his house. He stared blankly after for a minute or so longer, unable to decide what exact emotion was ruling his head at the moment, unable to decide whether he wanted to laugh more or cry. With a third vibration, he pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and skimmed through Misty's messages.

_'Are you okay?'_

_'Seriously do not ignore me, I'm bothering to reply to you, Ash Ketchum.'_

_'Ash.'_

Brock pulled up in his driveway a maximum of ten minutes later. Misty occupied the passenger seat, and Ash pulled open the back door and climbed in on his hands and knees.

"Okay, so what is – what are you doing?" Misty changed questions abruptly as Ash splayed out across the backseat, only to curl into a fetal position and groan.

"What happened?" Brock offered patiently, waiting for his reply. Misty had turned around in her seat, blinking in an expression of both irritation and concern.

"I'm so screwed," he moaned in emotional agony. "You're not gonna believe this. I'm so dumb. I'm screwed."

"Does this has something to do with –" Brock was cut off abruptly when Ash covered his head with his arms and let out a pained whine.

_"Gary."_


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon.**

* * *

Misty had instructed him to drop Gary immediately. Ash had rejected the idea on the grounds that he would fail biology – even with the sixty percent he could probably score on his upcoming exam as things were, that would not be enough to stave off slipping back into the twenties and thirties that he was used to later on in the semester. She had insisted that putting up with 'that jerk' wasn't worth the trouble. Brock kept a finger on his chin and nodded wisely at the right times, occasionally agreeing or disagreeing with a point that Misty made.

Gary had still not taken his driver's test, and though Ash's presence did essentially nothing to help him pass anymore, Ash wasn't sure that Gary knew that for himself yet. It was ultimately just another thing keeping him tethered to the brunette against Misty's advice (or another excuse to hide behind, as the real reason he felt so _tethered _to Gary Oak was painfully clear).

Eventually Brock left for class at the local community college and Misty got tired of his sighs and whines and threw him out.

"I'm so sick of the whole school worshiping that guy and now you're doing it too," she made a face of disgust. "Ugh."

"I don't worship him," he replied defensively, which was true. Ash could see exactly what an ass Gary was a great deal of the time – he was just hopelessly into him anyway, which was hardly his fault, at least in his own opinion. Misty was looking at him like he should have done something to prevent the situation ahead of time.

He shuffled out the door, reluctant to leave Misty's house where he had been shamefully sulking.

"Sure," she crossed her arms at him, entirely unconvinced. "Go home and study or something. Figure out how to do it by yourself so that you don't need him anymore."

He turned on the porch to stick her with a teasing, scrunched up expression and mimicking tone.

_"'Some best friend _you_ are, Misty Waterflower –!'"_

She reached across the distance between them and smacked him hard on the shoulder. Even when Misty wasn't truly angry, she hit just as hard as if she was.

"Screw you, I'm an amazing friend," she took a few steps out and shoved him so that he started down the short stretch of stairs. Her voice softened a little. "Just don't do anything stupid, okay?"

_"Awe,_ Misty, you _care_ about me –"

"I'm still mad at you!" She burst, interrupting. "For trusting that sophomore floozy over me! Now go away. Go be dumb somewhere else."

"Bye, Misty!" He waved as he progressed down her driveway, calling in a sing-song voice. "You care!"

"I have to," she crossed her arms and huffed with finality. "You'll need _somebody_ to beat up Gary one day, since you won't."

* * *

It took him several more days of sulking, but he managed to convince himself that Gary was right. He had other things to worry about – like baseball, or passing his biology exam. It wasn't like Gary's interest in him was a priority. It wasn't like it should bother him since they had both been drunk and it would have never happened sober and it didn't count for anything. It didn't count for anything at all.

Besides, Gary was still very much interested in continuing their renewed friendship, and Ash was willing to take that over nothing at all. He would much rather be Gary's friend than his enemy, which he was fairly certain they would go back to being if their friendship failed a second time. He had very little faith that they could exist neutrally.

Ash sighed.

At least Gary was being nice about it. Actually, he was being _excessively_ nice. It was almost weird, but Ash left it alone because Gary clearly felt...guilty? Uncomfortable, or embarrassed, perhaps. Or maybe pity for him, because Ash was so pathetic that there was still a little sliver in his mind that swelled with the hope that Gary would change his mind.

There was definitely an element of pity to it, Ash was convinced of that. He hated that, and he was going to bury his mortifying feelings for Gary if it was the last thing he did.

Gary was making that difficult. _'Nice'_ Gary was making it even more so.

"I'm hungry," Gary announced behind the wheel. Ash was skimming the biology book in his lap with limited interest. Still, the exam was no longer weeks and weeks away and even he had accepted that he would need to keep seriously applying himself. "We're stopping to eat somewhere."

"I didn't bring any money," Ash pointed out, leaving the confession that he had no money to bring unspoken.

"I'm buying."

Ash's brows met and he shot Gary a glance.

"Uh, I'll just not eat."

"Don't be stupid," Gary chastised, unsatisfied with that answer. "What do you want?"

"For you to not pay for me."

"Well, too bad," he was unperturbed, getting into the left lane.

"I'm not hungry," Ash continued to insist, but Gary was already turning into the lot of a fast food joint and carousing for a parking spot.

"Yeah, right," he was unconvinced. There was a pause as he pulled into a spot and put the car in park, but then he turned his head to face Ash entirely. "Relax. I got my black card back, so it's not even like I'm actually paying."

"Got it back?" He asked as they opened the doors and stepped into the parking lot, brows lowering a bit in confusion.

"Yeah," Gary shrugged and headed towards the building. Ash followed after. "From Gramps. He took it away awhile back, after I bought the Mercedes."

"I don't get it," Ash blinked. "I thought he let you buy that."

"Nah," Gary chuckled a little. He swung open the front door and glanced over his shoulder to make eye contact with him before carrying on. "When my parents died they left me all this money, right? But it wasn't legally mine until I turned eighteen. Gramps bought me a lot of what I asked him to at first – felt bad, probably – but he still kept most of it put away for college. He gave me a credit card when I was sixteen though. For emergencies. I put the Mercedes on that thing."

"What the –" he blinked harder, narrowing his eyes. "How is a Mercedes an emergency? Can you even put something that costs that much on a credit card?"

Ash had no experience with credit cards, or cards that held any type of monetary value, for that matter.

"Listen, I know," he shrugged again. "Why do you think I got it taken away? It was dumb. And you can, but it's a big process."

They reached the front counter and paused to survey the menu posted above the cashier.

"Really, somebody should have stopped me. I had to go through a lot of people to get the whole deal settled, and I kept waiting for one of the employees to tell me that what I was doing wasn't allowed." Ash was listening more intently than he wanted to admit, for as vaguely bitter as he was feeling about Gary's admission of endless wealth and careless spending, this was also the most that the brunette had divulged of his personal time during the years they hadn't spoken. For as much as Ash knew about Gary during those years, nearly all of it was observable from a distance. He really didn't know what his neighbor had been up to outside of baseball or school. "Nobody did, though. Except Gramps, when I got home. He let me keep it though, obviously. I didn't even like half the stuff I was buying back then. You should see my closet."

Ash gave him a dirty look. He definitely didn't want to see Gary's closet of expensive toys that he had likely discarded after a single use. They ordered and brought their food over to one of the two-seat tables by the window.

"Gramps made me sign up for the road test," Gary announced over the sound of Ash prying open his wrapped burger. His adamant proclamations that he wasn't hungry had evaporated at the sight of the menu.

"Are you nervous?" Ash asked forwardly and stuffed the burger into his mouth, pulling it away with a sizable chunk missing. Gary shrugged, unperturbed by his eating habits.

"Still gotta do it either way," he answered. "It's next Saturday, nine in the morning."

"Hey, that's the morning after my biology exam," Ash pointed out. Gary nodded.

"Yep," he was eating much more civilly. "So we cram until then?"

_"'Cram'…"_ Ash groaned.

"This is how regular students do it, Ashy," Gary told him, swallowing a bite. Ash glanced up from his food at the nickname, the word sending a quiet jolt through him. "They cram. 'Regular students' meaning not you – since you don't do anything – and not me, since I'm naturally gifted and –"

He kicked Gary under the table. The other boy responded with a shit-eating grin that fit his face too well, and Ash knew right then that no matter what Misty or Brock said he would still be well and truly screwed, because as long as he was welcome in Gary Oak's company he was going to be there.

* * *

They did cram, just as Gary had proposed. Nearly every day they saw one another outside of school (and nearly every day Misty texted him about coming with her to the pool, and she would reply to his rejections with emojis of angry faces and fists), Gary tutoring Ash on the final points of biology and Ash simply being present on driving excursions.

Ash had not been nervous about the exam before Gary had begun tutoring him. He had known – or would have known, had he bothered to spare any thought to it – that he would fail it, and the idea had not scared him in the slightest. He was no stranger to failing exams. He had become nervous when Professor Oak had warned him that his coach was considering removing him from the team if he repeated this pattern of failure, but even that feeling of dread was nothing to the consistently growing fear that he would do badly and Gary would think that all the work he had put into tutoring Ash had been a waste of time.

That was how he ended up at his neighbor's window at three in the morning the night before the big day, tossing stones up at the glass. After a few dozen consistent hits, the window flew open and the brunette's entire torso shot out, his eyes looking around irritably until he spotted Ash a story below.

"What are you doing?" He hissed down quietly. Ash called back up to him at a normal volume.

"Come let me in!"

Gary brought one finger to his lips, eyebrows knotting together. Ash repeated himself more quietly, and the boy disappeared back through the window.

Ash Ketchum did not catch nerves about many things for long. Gary was one of the few things he knew of that could consistently coil his insides over and over, but the boy's figure in the doorway to his home did not make him anxious at that moment. Ash barged in and up the stairs without removing his shoes, and Gary followed quietly after him, making angry gestures when his bare feet stepped in the damp trail Ash's tennis shoes had left.

"Make a little more noise," Gary scolded as he closed the bedroom door behind them. Ash flopped onto his bed like it was his own and began searching around. "Go ahead. Gramps isn't sleeping or anything."

"Where's the bio book?" Ash ignored him, looking up. Gary threw out one hand, and Ash's gaze followed it, expecting to find the book. Instead he found that Gary was gesturing to a bedside digital clock.

"It's three in the morning," he added, in case Ash did not immediately understand his point. Ash nodded, having already considered this.

"I need to study."

_"Now_ you need to study?" Gary balked. "No. I need to sleep."

"Please, Gary," Ash pressed, getting up and throwing out his hands to catch the other boy's biceps dramatically. "I can't fail, I have to –"

"Okay!" Gary cried quietly, having put up his hands to ward off the intrusion of space. He freed himself from Ash's hold and retreated to the bed, crawling into it and pulling the blankets up to his chin in a terribly cute fashion. He closed his eyes. "Fine. Study all you want. I'll be over here sleeping like a normal person. The book is on my desk."

"You can't sleep," Ash returned to the bed and tried to pry back the covers. In response, Gary gave an exasperated groan and tugged them entirely over his head. "Please, Gary."

"Oh my God," Gary threw them back again, eyes opening and glaring at him. _"Ash."_

_"Gary."_

They held the stare for a moment, Ash looking stubbornly determined – to study, of all things – and Gary stewing in annoyance.

"Fine," Gary relented, and Ash rejoiced internally. "Get the book."

He retrieved it and returned to his place on the bed, removing his shoes and jacket as Gary sat up and flipped pages. The other boy said nothing as he discarded his clothing across the floor haphazardly.

"Okay," Gary said with a heavy sigh, "first question is, have I ever told you how much you suck?"

"Gary."

"Second question…" Gary continued without missing a beat. After over a dozen were answered correctly, he shut the book.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Ash frowned. Gary rolled his eyes.

"You know this stuff," he reassured him, descending back beneath the blankets. "Get that through your head. You'll be fine tomorrow."

Ash huffed and lay back across the sheets as well, resting his head on the pillow next to Gary's. He kicked his legs out comfortably across the blankets.

"You're such a loser," Gary chuckled unexpectedly, but he sounded lighthearted. He propped himself up slightly on one arm, curling his hand into a fist and resting one cheek against it. "I can't believe you woke me up to study."

"You study all the time," Ash frowned, staring at the ceiling.

"I don't study. I'm naturally good at all things."

"You suck," Ash retorted. "I guess I should go home."

He made no move to leave. Gary shrugged.

"Guess so," he said noncommittally. "Or you could just stay here."

Ash felt the atmosphere of the room change, but it was unclear to him if it had really happened or if he were imagining it. He swallowed and shrugged back.

"I guess."

"You _guess,_" Gary sniggered, and Ash looked in time to catch the flash of white teeth. "Try and sound less excited. Just get under the blankets already."

Ash obeyed. Gary reached out one arm to cast a few layers over him and Ash wished he would leave it there, splayed over his side. He didn't. The brunette didn't look tired any longer and Ash's body felt alight at their proximity. There were a few inches of purposeful distance between them.

"Don't steal all the blankets," Gary warned teasingly. "You always did when we were kids."

"We're not kids anymore," Ash shot back equally quietly. Gary snorted.

Ash felt nothing like he had when they had been children taking naps together, when his greatest concern had been hogging as much space for himself as he could. He felt the space between them like a wall, and all he could think about was breaking it down and closing it.

"You don't feel weird?" Ash asked. It was all he could do to keep his voice from hitching over any of the words. "Me staying over. It's not like my house is far."

Gary smiled at that, but shrugged again.

"What's it matter?" He asked with a little smirk. "Can't be any worse than that party."

Exam nerves were nothing, nerves over keeping his spot on the team were nothing, everything was nothing to the rush of mingled fear and excitement he felt when he dared to lean in and closed the distance, the two emotions so tightly wound it was impossible for him to decide which he felt more of. And then they were kissing, and Ash felt light in his head and chest, their mouths pressed together and limbs slowly entangling.

They weren't supposed to, and Gary had said he didn't want to, but he wasn't pushing him away or telling him to stop and it felt only right, like a scene that had been building up to that moment, as if Ash had never intended to study at all even though he could have sworn that was why he came over in the first place. He could feel the brunette's hard on against his thigh and wondered briefly if he had not been the only one waiting for something to happen.

Barely, he reached out with his hands and grazed Gary's nightshirt, struck with uncertainty and shyness that he wasn't used to feeling. This was Gary, sober Gary, whose tongue was in his mouth and one hand was snaking around to the small of his back, and when the other boy reached down with his free hand and palmed him through his sweatpants, his breath hitched and his nerves faded into irrelevance.

Gary rolled over the top of him, settling his hips between Ash's legs, and the darker-haired of them brought his hands up to grasp Gary's biceps rather suddenly. The brunette paused, face lingering above his own, but Ash could feel the outline of his arousal pressing against his inner thigh just inches away from his own and that was making it very, very hard to make good decisions.

"You don't want to," he breathed out barely, and it was so damn difficult not to just give in, not to just rock against Gary's hips and get them started already - but he wanted to hear this, needed to hear this. "You said we shouldn't do anything."

"I know," Gary was hovering inches away from him, and Ash kept expecting him to lean down and close the distance, but he stayed where he was, listening. "I do want to, though. We don't have to. We can just go to sleep. Don't think we have to."

His stupid chest swelled like when Gary said that he had missed him.

"That's not what you said before."

"I know," Gary said again, sinking a little closer, making it increasingly harder for Ash to resist closing the distance between their lips. Gary rocked his hips against Ash's and he couldn't help a slight moan leaving his lips. "Fuck, I shouldn't."

"Why not?" He breathed out his nose and pushed back. Gary exhaled.

"Because it's _you," _his hands trailed down to Ash's hips and rolled forward again. Ash couldn't help it this time, he pressed back and leaned up until their foreheads were touching. He wanted Gary to shut up, but he wanted Gary to reassure him that this wasn't just a one-time thing, but neither of them were drunk _God he was so hard - "_It's you and I can't just _fuck this up, _Ash."

He didn't ask what 'this' was, and he didn't need to know, not right then. Because as long as what they were doing was _something, anything, _he could live with that, he could handle it. He was so sure he could.

Screw what anyone else said, he was a stupid, gullible kid and he knew that, but he needed this.

"You won't," he said, and their lips crashed together and Ash was so certain that he was right. Gary never fucked things up, even when he was an insufferable ass it was always Ash's job to actually ruin things, and there was no way he was going to ruin this, there was no way he wasn't going to hold onto Gary for everything he was worth.

His head fell back against the pillows and Gary lowered his mouth to his neck, sucking at the skin as their clothed bodies rocked against each other rhythmically. He wanted to do more but he was far too good at screwing up and he had to be careful with this. He had already lost Gary once and now he was getting the chance to earn back more than he had ever thought that he would be able to.

"I'm sorry," he sort of breathed out, barely there. Gary didn't stop them altogether but he did pause at Ash's neck, face appearing over his again with hooded eyes and barely knitted brows.

"For what?"

"I don't know," he chuckled barely, the sound hitching as Gary's cock pressed against the bulge in his own sweatpants. "Everything."

"Not your fault," he murmured in short, clipped sentences, but it did nothing to detract from how genuine he sounded. "Never was. I'm sorry, too."

They kept at a steady pace and Ash's hand gripped Gary's shoulder and the other around his bicep, tightening and breathing hard until he came undone. Gary followed shortly after and Ash could feel him throbbing in his sweats as he did, the two of them panting lightly and flushed. He expected the come down to be awkward, at least partly - last time, they had been drunk. Neither of them could remember how that ended.

But it wasn't - it was just the two of them and comfortable silence, until Ash started giggling and couldn't be stopped. Gary teased him until they infected him too, and they changed and got back into bed and nothing about it was strange. Not yet, anyway. Ash had no idea what the morning would bring. He was no good at reading Gary's mind, and when the sun rose he could have an entirely different opinion than he had the night before.

He stayed the night anyway.


End file.
